There is a beautifully poignant moment at the beginning of this week’s Torah portion. Yosef hears that his father is not doing well, and knowing that he has limited time left, he takes his grandchildren to see their grandfather one more time. In his bed, Ya’akov hears that Yosef has come and sits up, and announces his intention to bless Yosef’s sons, and treat them as if they were equal to his own children. Then, he looks up and sees two young people he doesn’t recognize. “מִי־אֵלֶּה” he asks Yosef. “Who are they?”
They, of course, are his grandchildren, the very ones that he has been talking about blessing, the ones whom he loves so much. Yosef explains to his father “בָּנַי הֵם אֲשֶׁר־נָתַן־לִי אֱלֹהִים בָּזֶה” “They are my sons, whom God has given to me here.” Reassured, Ya’akov asks for them to come forward to bless them.
There are two traditional ways of reading this encounter. The first, and most straightforward, is that Ya’akov could not see very well. After all, in the very next line, the Torah says that Ya’akov’s eyes were dimmed. It could easily have been that he saw the two silhouettes of his grandchildren, but could not make out their faces. The other traditional interpretation is that, in that moment, Ya’akov saw the wicked kings that would descend from his two grandchildren and became nervous that they were not worthy of a blessing. Yosef then reminds Ya’akov that those children are his gift from God.
There is another way of understanding the scene the rabbis don’t discuss as much: that Ya’akov has forgotten what his grandchildren look like. That his memory is failing. That he remembers the idea that he has grandchildren, and remembers their names, but does not remember how old they are. Maybe he remembers them as young children, not young adults. Maybe he can’t picture their faces. He still loves them—but he can’t remember.
Yosef models how to lovingly respond to a parent in this situation. “These are my sons, whom God has given to me here.” He states it lovingly, as if it were the first time he were in this situation—hence, the phrase “that God has given to me here,” as if Ya’akov were meeting them for the first time. Obviously, his father has met them before. But Yosef gently reintroduces his sons to Ya’akov, and that gives Ya’akov the confidence to give them a blessing.
As we live longer and longer, more and more we encounter friends and loved ones whose memory is fading from them. It is one of the hardest things in this life: both to have our memory fade, and to see those who we care about forget those closest to them. It is never easy. Perhaps it can be a source of comfort to us that we are not alone in these trials. Our ancestors suffered through them as well, thousands of years ago. The most important thing is to continue to be compassionate, to keep our patience, and to keep our love. Who knows how many times Yosef reintroduced his sons to Ya’akov? But every time he did it, he did it with care and with understanding. May we learn and be able to live up to our ancestor, and continue to treat those we love whose memory is fading with compassion and patience.
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Gelman
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